Time is on my side! (yes it is)

Being a publicly admitted comic book fan (graphic novels, if you please) I find that this has been one of the better plotted texts we have read. While I believe that Spiegelman’s initial response to 9/11 was a blur of confused images, as time went on it formed itself into what we have in front of us now. The fact that it took an enormous amount of time to complete even one panel meant that Spiegelman had to put thought and effort into the tiniest details. In this came small details that others might not have thought of such as dazed pigeons or a street painter who lost his muse because the towers had fallen and destroyed the picture he was painting.

Cartoons make many images more palpable to the tastes of readers. It’s one of the reasons why they become so entwined in our society. By using the medium of comics, Spiegelman is able to present ideas that many were unwilling to voice after 9/11 while still making something appreciated by many. Cal it the ultimate collage; harsh social commentary with cute and fuzzy comics (kind of). Page 9 is an especially illustrative of this. The images are confusing but comical, while Spiegelman is dragging newspapers, New York, and even his own displacement through the mud. It is illustrative (ha ha, pun intended) that many of Spiegelman’s illustrations mirror those older comics he displays in the back. As time passed, Spiegelman was able to pull from that which he knew best as a way to cope. While he rants about displacement on page 9, he is doing the exact same thing by attempting to image the same sort of chaos in the comics of the past. Just the fact that the mouse from “Krazy Kat” has come to resemble Osama Bin Laden is just slightly out there to me, but to Spiegelman, this is completely legitimate and also a way to process all that he sees as the aftermath of 9/11.

I think that is one of the main reasons Spiegelman created these panels. Yes, I believe that there were WAY too many stories after 9/11, but this is more than a story. This is one man’s intimate portrait of how the tragedy affected a man and his family and an attempt at some sort of catharsis. In the end, I believe that many people will learn from this, and many people will be completely distanced at the same time. The fact that it took so long to complete is one of the main points. His introduction speaks to this, the fact that he calls on very old comics as further illustrations and the mere fact that the subject matter encompasses issues long after 9/11 shows the reader that time may be the only real healing process. Spiegelman still seems so pissed off at the end, maybe it’ll take longer, but he at least shows how time helped him along.

The movie, the book, the movie, the book. I can’t decide!!!!!

I was also puzzled as to why Giroux ignored the novel to focus on the movie. I can at least see that he wished to look at Hollywood’s influence and how the images it sends to society upholds many problems that exist. But considering the influence the novel already has, the time it took for it to be made into a movie and the fanatical following that has been created in the wake of both, one  such as I must wonder how anyone attempting to analyze one can ignore the other.

In this light I wish to look at how Fincher may have only furthered the ideas that Giroux so quickly grasped onto; that of the masculinity of violence and the movie influencing the minds of the viewers. I agree that Palahniuk deals with a lot of issues and of course Fincher had to trim them down in an effort to not make a twelve hour movie, but the way in which Fincher modifies the pieces he keeps drastically changes the impact, at least in my mind. Not only does he overly emphasize the violence, he makes it fantastic and a whirl of special effects. One instance of this is the death of Robert Paulson. Instead of him simply drilling into a parking meter, the “homework assignment” becomes a gigantic golden ball that destroys a (possibly) Starbucks.

Not only is the violence overly emphasized, it is trivialized and playful. When the members of Fight Club must start and lose a fight, the background music is playful, light even. The violence throughout this scene is violent, but the viewer is bombarded with much happier and playful images than the simple idea that these men are committing acts of violence. There are countless instances of this in both the novel and the movie, I believe there are some key differences between the two that Giroux wanted to avoid.

Most important is Jack/Tyler’s reluctance for violence in the end. I do not mean strictly Jack’s; we know he doesn’t wish for anymore violence. Instead there is the final moment atop the tallest building where the bomb fails because Tyler/Jack uses paraffin in the mixture. Jack seems to imply that he always knew this; it was spoken of many times throughout the book. So why would Tyler do such a thing? And how does this change what Giroux sees in the film. If the ending of the film were to incorporate this idea instead of the hand holding/buildings exploding Fincher ending, would Giroux have been able to envision so much of societies mirroring of the violence?

At the very least, I think Fincher kind of botched it with this ending. Palahniuk makes it all one big cyclic joke. Jack tries to avoid consumerism and slavery to it, Jack tries to destroy consumerism, Jack becomes part of consumerism (Fight Club© and The Paper St. Soap Co. © – all marketable images), Jack tries to destroy his own consumerism. In the movie there is not so much this as a glorification of the violence and the finality of the violence paying off in that there is at least the semblance of a happy ending between Jack and Marla. I could go on about this for a long time, but I just wish to end with this question. Which do you think is more condoning of violence, the book or the movie?

Dealing with fears

I agree with what everyone has been saying about fear being a constant topic throughout the film. But I also think that in recognizing the fantastic notions that are ascribed to the film through the website and additional material provided by the director, the idea of dealing with fear needs to be confronted. It seems to be undercutting almost every scene in the film. Dealing with fear is something each character must do, and how they go about it is one of the main ideas I believe the diredtor may be dealing with, even though it may be latently.

I kept asking myself the question "What is it the director fears so much that he would go and make a film that seems to bent on coping with fear"? The references that are used in the film all deal with having some sort of control over fear, from Graham Green’s short story to the quantum mecahnics and time travel that allow Donnie to control the future. Small or large, it all revolves around being able to control fear. Even Jim Cunningham’s entire "program" is a way for him to show that Jim Cunningham has control (when he obviously does not), however it was received by the public in the movie.

This is a constant theme in all the postmodern texts that we are dealing with. But in many cases, the method of dealing with fear often involves a regression into the past. Palahniuk does this not only in "Fight Club", but in almost every one of his other novels. The character is always dealing with fear by delving into the past, or at least making the world go into the past. Art Spiegelman uses cartoons that look like older newsprint comics to deal with very graphic material. Even "Donnie Darko" relies on going into the past to fix the future and relying on a childish idea of a superhero with amazing capabilities. So it would seem to me that the postmodernists ideas of dealing with fear is to return to the past. Maybe that explains all the intertextuality.

Either way, I think that the incredible amount of imformation that the director has given only proves this idea. He continues to create this mythology of "The Philosophy of Time Travel", not just to promote the movie, but to further the myth that there is control over fear,or at least the possibility of control. It just seems to me that it’s a bit of overkill, but it on a different note, it goes along with the notion that came up last week about the novel being published based on a novel that would be published in "Lost". Again we have almost an entire body of work (and a fan base for it) for something that didn’t exist and was created solely forthe purpose of furthering the sales of a movie. What does that say about all the imformation we are taking apart and dissecting? Can we actually make any real assumptions or conclussions about a completely fake text? or are any texts real since they are the creations of imagination? I don’t know anymore! Now I’m getting scared!

You know…for kids!!!

With so much to discuss in this book, I can’t help but lean towards DeLilo’s impression of children throughout the novel. At times, they are the sublime image of the way things ought to be, as on pg 154 where J.A.K. was drawn to watch his sleeping children. Just the image of his children brought him peace despite his impending death by computer.

 

Other times there is a more sinister aspect to the children and their actions. Heinrich makes pronunciations that are chilling in their accuracy and in their gruesome descriptions. His depth of knowledge is unsettling at times, especially compared with the ignorance that is displayed by the adults; especially the academics. The children all seem possessed not only of a greater knowledge than the adults, but also of strength of character that gives them a greater presence than their parents. For example, J.A.K.’s daughter, Bee, is able to make cross-continental plane trips and make deeply insightful remarks into her parent’s marriage, while her mother and father are incapable of communication.

 

As it is written on page 103, "Make no mistake. I take these children seriously. It is not possible to see too much in them, to overindulge your casual gift for the study of character. It is all there, in full force, charged waves of identity and being. There are no amateurs in the world of children."

 

With this back and forth, I am sometimes at a loss for exactly how DeLilo wishes children to be seen. Maybe they are something to be feared. With J.A.K.’s fear of death, cannot the children, with their seemingly depthless knowledge, be only one more constant reminder of his looming death? There is a distance between him and the children is not something that grows, it is a constant. From the beginning, despite the numerous "family activities", it is always as if J.A.K. is watching his children. Their connection to the television and the radio make them almost a spectacle to be viewed. The fact that much of what they say is an exact repetition of what is on the television may be more of a commentary on the media than on the kids. But the children are always being viewed by the parents, almost spied upon.

 

In true postmodern spirit, the children are part of the paranoia that is so present in the novel. With their superiority, they are just one more part of the hierarchy that is represented, but not necessarily understood. The hardest part about this is making an argument one way or the other; partly because of some of the contradictions that exist in the book. J.A.K. thinks that staring at his daughters is a sublime while the thought of staring at Heinrich is slightly unsettling. Yet J.A.K. is so happy to spend time with Wilder that even when the child is screaming (because of…insert here-pain, despair, discomfort, fear, misunderstanding, perhaps just plain pissed off) he can be at peace. Ah, the contradictions that signify postmodernism. Children may be the future, but beware the future. This idea could be good or evil depending on how you want to look at it. In my mind, I side with the kids. As long as most of the adults act like Babette and J.A.K., I would rather put my faith in children. They are the most human characters. They display their fear, like Denise does. They are intelligent and remember the things they are taught, like Heinrich. Even in their despair, they seem to learn form it, as is implied after Wilder’s 7 hour fit. While DeLilo is ambiguous in his presentation of children, I think this is partly because he does sense the future in them. They are human, they are flawed, and that is safe! If anybody has seen "The Hudsucker Proxy", I see that as a good comparison. Norville Barnes is childlike on so many levels, and his invention is perceived as insane by the other adults. The only one who gets it is the boy who discovers the hula-hoop rolling on the street. And thus the craze started (at least according to the Coen Brothers).

 

"There are no amateurs in the world of children." No matter what, the kids seem to understand, or at least have the ability to learn. So like the Bible, maybe DeLilo feels that children are what the world will be built on.

 

Just like a good wine!

 Now, I don’t exactly agree with the idea of things always getting better with time, I do think that this is one of the points that Benjamin seems to ignore about art in general. His argument seems a little high minded for my tastes in that he appears to side with the fact that "high art" is the only acceptable art, even though his definition of such a term is vague. He wavers between film, journalism and art, without ever really stating what he believes to be the best of these. All the while, I got the impression that his belief of maintaining the "Aura" of a work meant that anything that came after the initial creation or performance was a degradation of the original. I am a firm believer of the opposite. 
Of course I am speaking of this from a purely personal perspective, but in this case, I think it counters Benjamin’s argument to say something from the layman’s side of the ring. Taking art to the masses has been one of the better outcomes of the postmodern world. It was one of the same questions that came to mind when I was reading "Lathe of Heaven", who would be better suited to have the power to rearrange reality? Someone like George; a normal, uneducated layman? or The Good Doctor, who represented hierarchy and intellectualism? In the end of novel Le Guinn seems to want to say George was the answer; while I think that Benjamin would have sided with the doctor. Benjamin even complains (and I think most of this article sounded like a complaint) "Literary license is now founded on polytechnic rather than specialized training and thus becomes common property" (232)? Why would training guarantee quality writing or art in any form. His dispute that n number of artists of value are produced in a given time period is ludicrous, in that it ignores all other pieces of art in any genre that have not been proclaimed "masterpieces". 
Every piece of art (in any genre) will have its detractors and supporters. Every piece of art has its own intrinsic value that some will appreciate and others detest. Time will tell. In all things time will tell. As often as something is reproduced, it is given a new opportunity and a new audience. I have never actually seen a Turner Painting in the flesh, only in books, yet his art is some of the most moving and inspiring pieces for me; for me being the operative term. without the expansion of reproductions, many people would never have the chance to appreciate art in all of its form. Television, film, literature, painting, sculpture, there are many things to discover. Just imagine how many things (a highly intellectual term, I know) that were created before Benjamin are being discovered now. To discount what is being created now simply because it is the result of over reproduction or a "destruction of the Aura" is to not give people time to appreciate one work of art. Given time, everyone will find something that they truly enjoy, whether or not it has been dictated to them that "It is art and therefor must be appreciated". 
In our postmodern world, there is now more to offer people that can be enjoyed, often past the first time. to return to the point that Benjamin seemed to discount anything past the first performance or impression, postmodernism offers everything a second and third and fourth chance. In some cases it is through remakes; where something old is done in a new fashion. In other cases, it is referenced in the type of intertextuality that is common of postmodernism and can be referenced in almost any form of art. Lastly, there is the collage, where at times, an older piece of art is added upon with other works to create a whole new point of reference. 
As I said before, I feel that with time, all things have a chance to be appreciated more, like a good bottle of wine. I’m not applying this to everything that has ever been categorized as art, especially since so many "good" bottles of wine are often opened and found to be spoiled, no matter how much they cost. 

Whu?

And with that highly intelligent title, I think I have summed up my reaction to both the novel and the article. while I have often found dense texts in the courses I have been in challenging, rarely have I been so stymied by the complex situations and ideas presented by these two authors. Part of the reason for this in Russ’ text is the sheer lack of anyone with whom I can relate any sentiment. Not only is the story a scream for feminism and a call to rethink ideas of gender roles, but it is so lopsided in its representations and characters that I feel completely blank when trying to assimilate the text into any kind of association with my life. 

With that in mind, I found myself trying to find similarities the novel had with other texts. I found myself recalling "Mulholland Drive" and the scene where Betty and Rita (or whatever their real names were) consummate their relationship. Some have said that this was David Lynch trying to make fun of how almost all sex scenes only include the exposition of female nudity. Others said he was attempting to make a general statement of female empowerment. The hard part is, "Mulholland Drive" is just as dense as "The Female Man". I got the impression that Russ was often just taking general ideas that popped into her mind and then trying to shove them into the story. Parts like The reason why Whileawayans celebrate,  or the great happiness contest felt like they were just cobbled together in the story to fill up space. I found it very hard to get attached to any character and even harder to get involved with any plot the story may or may not have had. 
The only correlating idea from Haraway’s article came in the first paragraph of "Fractured Identities", where she said that naming feminism by one adjective was an impossible task. Haraway says, "There is nothing about being ‘female’ that naturally binds women. There is not even such a state of ‘being’ female, itself a highly complex category constructed in contested sexual scientific discourses and other social practices" (pg 155). In following this idea, there is no way to contextualize this novel. It may be a manifesto, or maybe a postmodern creation of a hopeful world where gender is nonexistent (but in reality is even more focused). I don’t know, my brain is reeling. The only question I would pose to anyone who makes it this far into my meandering is how you would categorize this novel? Is it feminist, or is it just so postmodern that it had created its own category in the realm of fiction?

Memory! (and if anyone mentions that stupid somg from “Cats” heads will roll)

Lenny makes a point while arguing with his wife that the point of reading a book is to find out what happens in the end; that is where the enjoyment of reading is based in Lenny’s world. In a way I think this is Nolan making a little funny about his film. If anything, we, as viewers, already know what has happened. The ending is the first thing we see. But I don’t think the plot of the film is based around the actions of our memory deficient friend. While the noir aspect of the film places much of the emphasis on the detective efforts, memory (history, if you want to link this up to Harvey’s ideas) is what this film focuses on. Why else do all the explanations Lenny gives in the black and white moments focus on how he has disciplined his memory and how others (like Sammy Jankis) are weak. While Lenny has convinced himself that he cannot form new memories, the fact that he has been able to form so many new habits proves otherwise. His memory is fine. The ritual of tattooing is one he can perform almost in passing and while talking on the phone. Taking pictures of people and things is an instinctive reflex almost. Writing his notes is an almost religious experience (while he can remember to do it in time). Most important in this idea of memory is the moment when he decides to make Teddy the focus of his revenge. From the moment of that conscious decision, if you watch the film backwards, Teddy has become the focal point of his memory. Harvey says in his article that "And if it is true that time is always memorialized not as flow, but as memories of experienced places and spaces, then history must indeed give way to poetry, time to space, as the fundamental material of social expression" (Harvey pg 218). Lenny has conditioned himself to recognizing spaces and phrases of power (poetry in his tattoos). In the internal monologues, the unfamiliar hotel room is a routine that he goes through to help him remember. the simple action of opening drawers despite a precognition of "knowing" nothing would be in them is one of Lenny’s conditioned memory triggers. he knows what’s coming even though he tells himself he doesn’t. While his notion of time has disappeared completely, where he is, and what he can see is his history. 

What really makes this postmodern is another example from Harvey. Table 4.1 has lots of contradictions between modern and postmodern. The one I found most relevant was the utopian vs. heterotopia. Lenny’s utopia was ever changing. Whatever happiness he found in the original act of revenge was replicated in who knows how many other acts that teddy arranged. the idea of redemptive art was destroyed in the spectacle of Lenny’s tattoos. They held no help for him, since they often betrayed the plots others had laid. Instead of any concentrated work, the work Lenny did was dispersed among every other character he met, all seemed to have other motives to how they would use him. Instead of being a specialist, Lenny became a psychologist, a detective, judge, jury and executioner. As for the symbolic capital, well, the Jag says it all. 
The interview on the specials menu adds an extra insight into the memory aspect of the film. Nolan said that much of the idea for his direction came from his own memory and how it made him view things. He says he often remembers movies as the ending, and not so much as a whole. How anyone may wish to  interpret that into the execution of the film is something I would like to hear in class. 

Let’s get unconfortable!

There are enough underlying issues to make the point that Colson Whitehead is making much the same point that bell hooks is emphasizing; that many of the issues in african-american discussion are glossed over, forgotten or ignored completely. Worse still, they are misunderstood. Why not bring up the fact that Black power never disappeared but simply faded from the journalists favor? Why not argue that the only real discussion of key points in postmodernism and black culture are fought out in segregated ranks? One could say just about anything to make note of any number of uncomfortable subjects; or Colson Whitehead could make fiction a more forceful means of portraying the issue.
Instead of blasting the reader with that idea and almost certainly alienating people like those at the same dinner table that hooks was at, Whitehead turns the issue into one that exists only in fiction. Instead of standing himself on a soapbox and trying to make a critical argument about it, Whitehead combines Science Fiction, Fiction and Non-fiction to make a valid social argument. What is the separation between what is seen and what is intuited? When do people stop basing their conclusions on established knowledge and begin taking a step into the darkness towards an unseen conclusion?
I don’t believe Whitehead is attempting to make any concrete pronunciations or judgments on the topic. On the contrary, he leaves the reader the task of sifting through the conspiracy theories, the social issues and the fictional plot lines for meaning. In this way, the book is not a modernistic ploy to validate one simple ideal or goal. Instead it is a multifaceted attempt at instigating any number of discussions from the abilities of a African-American middle class, the preconceptions of a colonial culture, and a feminist argument in White or African-American cultures. 
In the name of making things uncomfortable, there is also a bit of a comic book tint to this novel, and Colson Whitehead must be a comic book fan. There are too many little insinuations and hints that shout out that he (and me in the process) a fan. One giveaway is the infatuation with New York (unnamed as it is) and the heights to which it soars. another is in the character aspect of Lila MAe. While the issues that she faces are definitely based in race, there is also an aspect of the lonely hero; following a quest and goal only she understands and betrayed by even those she considers to be friends or closer. Most blatant though is Ben Urich, who appears in almost every Marvel comic as the outside, very human reporter of the meta-human activities of Daredevil, Spiderman, The Avengers, etc. 
I think comics (or graphic novels for the fanatics out there) are a misunderstood social platform. the campy golden age comics of Superman and Batman were pretty much what-you-see-is-what-you-get, but the way in which Whitehead references them proves that they can make a valid point. He never names the city in the novel, but it could easily be New York. The "Imaginary City"; the simulacrum that has come about in the world of comics is one in which the city mirrors the actions of the heroes. Like the high flying caped crusaders, Lila Mae’s thoughts soar, and the city is again recreated; a simulacra recreated of a simulacra. Comics are a constant recreation of the world which they initially mirrored, to the point where they have embellished it beyond recognition. DC comics contain Metropolis and Gotham, both created in the image of New York, but two cities whose names are now part of everyday conversation (they’re not in the OED, but I think they will be soon).
In other words, Colson Whitehead is doing more than making this novel simply another commentary on racial issue; he’s making a novel that is part of a world that mirrors ours in its sensibilities, it detractions and even its own little underground, misunderstood mediums. 
There’s my soapbox for the day.

I like the talking heads Wallbashing

There’s nothing to fear but fear itself!(and that’s okay)

Fear has always been a factor in most of my decisions. As a family man, I often have to act out of fear of how the outcome will affect them. Yet Orr seems to operate outside of this impulse. The idea that he is dead in the middle of all things seems to imply that his motivation really does seem to fall in the range of affecting the most people in a positive way. Can you imagine a political candidate who appeals to both sides equally? While talking to Orr, Haber mentions that the governing power of fear is a Victorian notion that destroyed the best minds of the nineteenth and twentieth century; that the end result of what he and Orr were doing was to eradicate fear.
But Orr response to the idea of having nothing to fear was, “But there is…”.
The different responses to fear illustrate their different perspectives. When confronted with the greatest moments of fear, Orr’s reaction was one that benefited humanity, even if it were often in miniscule ways. But as an extreme example, when faced with the end of the world (the burning world), he saved humanity while still making the world normal; fearful.
Haber’s idea was to eradicate fear, to change the world into a perfect utopia. Anyone who has ever seen a movie with a genie in it, knows that if you wish for a perfect world, it doesn’t happen. Yet for al his supposed good intentions, Haber’s world s governed by fear as well. When the alien’s were “attacking” his reaction was not to protect Orr, or even humanity, but to throw himself over the Augmentor.
Orr dealt with life as it happened, and towards the end of the book, seemed to realize the inevitability of actions. Orr operated based on his fear; not knowing the outcome. When Haber almost destroyed reality, what drove Orr to succeed was the fear of losing Heather and his chaotic life.
Harvey mentions this idea in his essay when he says, “The boundary between fiction and science-fiction has, as a consequence, effectively dissolved, while postmodernist characters often seem confused as to which world they are in, and how they should act with respect to it. Go with the flow; don’t worry, be happy; cool runnings. Like an abstract or minimalist painting, what is on the outside is not important. Everyone underestimated Orr because on the outside he appeared weak, yet no one ever took the time to delve into the depths of his mind and actions. While he often reacted out of fear, even if it was to take dugs out of fear of hurting others, his actions eventually led to a greater good, even if it were an imperfect world.

And now for something completely different…

So much is being said about “The Crying of Lot 49”, I figure, why not be different and look at Jameson’s article. The problem with that is there is WAYYYY to much to go into any great detail. The main point that kept grabbing my attention is the constant reference to architecture. The fact that Jameson credits architecture as one of the first modes of postmodernism shows how important expression is. There is a quote from Mies van der Rohe that I love, “Skyscrapers reveal their bold structural pattern during construction. Only then does the gigantic steel web seem impressive. When the outer walls are put in place, the structural system, which is the basis of all artistic design, is hidden by a chaos of meaningless and trivial forms… We can see the new structural principles most clearly when we use glass in place of the outer walls, which is feasible today since in a skeleton building these outer walls do not carry weight.” (Mies van der Rohe. from Martin Pawley, introduction and notes. Library of Contemporary Architects: Mies van der Rohe. p12.)
The skeletal frame of the building can be in any form, much like postmodernism can take on writing, art, music, even capitalist ideals and express them. Mies van der Rohe let the viewer see the insides of his buildings. Gehry’s process starts with sketches that look like they are thrown onto paper and then he designs in a matter that conforms to the initial idea and not the limitations that arise. He adapts to each new idea.
I think Jameson sees this in postmodernism in general as well. on pg. 72 as he grapples with explaining Lacan, he moves from language to biology, then back to the ideas of paternal authority represented in linguistic function (the Name-of-the-Father). I think this is why I see postmodernism as one big conglomerate. It cannot be pinned down, wrestled with until it gives you a definite idea of what it is, or finagled into something tangible. As Jameson references architecture on pg. 80 he says, “The newer architecture therefor-like many of the other cultural products I have evoked in the preceding remarks-stands as something like an imperative to grow new organs, to expand our sensorium and our body to some new as yet unimaginable, perhaps ultimately impossible, dimensions”. For anyone who has seen a Gehry building, you’ll understand just how relevant this idea is in a postmodern sense.